Tylenol
by Moth Gypsy
Summary: Young Sasuke thinks about things he likes and things he doesn't like and it occurs to him that he isn't completely normal. Or maybe he is and it's just everyone else.


I'm really not sure about this, I have a lot more in mind for it but Im having a hard time actually sitting down and writing it --' So Im just gunna see if anyone even likes it, maybe I can find inspiration in others Oo cause im lazy like that. Im still trying to shape what I think Sasuke is like or used to be like, and my ideas of how characters are are usually a bit skewed n.n so forgive me for any character butchering, but please dont hesitiate to point it out or anything else that might be disatisfactory or just unapealing, Im going through a "learning and growing" faze... or something like that.

Tylenol for Sasuke

-

Orange is such a lurid color. Sasuke had never liked the color orange. He had also never thought that he would be so constantly reminded of just how obnoxious a color it was. But then, there were a lot of things that Sasuke had never thought would happen, never thought they would be gone, never thought such hatred existed, never thought he- but he did- and it's forever and always has been, hasn't it?

Sasuke had always tried to avoid loud people. Because loud people were annoying and stupid and his own family was so quiet. He remembers long ago, thinking, Why are other children so loud? He'd wondered this on his first day at the academy when, holding tightly to his mothers hand, the doors to a new type of life had opened to reveal multitudes of happy, grinning faces and a seemingly endless ocean of _noise._ Androgynous chatter and screaming and laughing and the girl in the corner crying and her mothers pleading and Sasuke had pressed closer to his own mother. All of his excitement, his determination flew from him, leaving a small shy feeling inside of his chest. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to be in his own house again, where things were quiet and still.

Girls had never really interested him. But then again, no one had ever really interested him. Except for Itachi, of course. And Fugaku. But they were both gone now, weren't they? Fugaku dead, died that night with only the stars to witness. Itachi dead or at least he would be, never was alive in the first place. _Who he was_, in that short space of time that didn't really exist, _who was that_? Surely no one that Sasuke knew. There was one girl though, a cherry blossom with soft green eyes. But what was her name? Sasuke didn't even know, still doesn't know. He never seems to know these things. He can tell you the exact weight of a standard shuriken, the most productive way to use senbon coupled with a smoke bomb, and the proper method to form any one of the twelve hand signs. Her name is on the tip of his tongue, surely he's heard it spoken. He must have slept through that lesson.

Sasuke never liked fake people. He learned this even before he entered the academy where all the things that were supposed to be important were taught. A tall, straight backed Uchiha, his mother's cousin if he remembered correctly, along with his wife, spoke with Fugaku and Itachi after dinner. He watched from the kitchen where his mother was washing dishes. They exchanged smiles and compliments, broad gestures made towards everything, the house, the fine mahogany furniture, the gardens outside, Itachi. _Itachi_. How proud, the man had said, you must be of such a fine son. That night, Itachi told Sasuke that the man's own son was crippled and his wife unable to bear children. The man's heart was filled with bitterness towards Fugaku and Fugaku's family.

-

"One day, Sasuke," he had said, quietly, "you will be able to see these things yourself. Your eyes will know the heart of everything they observe." Itachi's eyes stared forward, blank.

Sasuke knew Itachi saw things that no one else did, not even Fugaku. He remained quiet at times like that, in awe that such secrets were bestowed onto him and no one else. The amazement was just enough to drown out the fear.

-

Things had not changed much over time, Sasuke reflected. Although, he seems to have become attached to contradictions. All the things that he hates, the things that bother him most, seem to surround him now. And the few things that had ever truly mattered were broken glass, shattered into a thousand jagged pieces and covered in long dried blood. And those eyes, the eyes that fate itself had promised to him, he knew now that it keeps slipping though; he can barely hold on and he's frightened he wanted nothing to do with them.

There are times when Sasuke is overwhelmed by it all and he becomes panicked. He would never admit to being afraid of himself. And he definitely would never admit to being afraid of his past. But he is afraid. When he dares to ask himself of what, the only answer he can give the silence is I don't know. And Sasuke knows everything, doesn't he? So if he doesn't know something, then it must be nothing. Sasuke is afraid of nothing. He tells this to people sometimes, but he isn't quite sure they understand what he means.

When that isn't enough, Sasuke hides. He hides behind a façade of barred iron fence and locked tight iron door and black, uncaring windows that not even the sun can penetrate.

And then he begins to wonder if anyone knows what anything means. If, perhaps, everything is just one big mistake. And that makes it just a little bit easier to accept.

-

He isn't quite sure when it began. He thinks it was sometime between when he started academy and when everything changed. But a name haunted him. Not like the Uchiha's haunted him, but like an annoying rhyme that just sticks in your head even though you don't want it to.

_Naruto._

And that name repeated itself, over and over, an endless mantra inside of him. Sometimes, he heard it so loud and so clear that he had to stop whatever he was doing to look around himself to be sure that it hadn't actually been spoken. And sometimes he gets weird looks because he says it aloud, whispered it like a prayer in hopes that his breath might carry it away from him. _Naruto Naruto Naruto._

It seemed like a good idea.

Eventually, his jaw got sore. After lying awake for more than half the night and staring into the darkness and whispering whispering over and over. It was strange to him. It was the first time since _that night _that he was completely focused on something other than _them_.

And it was just a name. He didn't even know who it belonged to. He tried imagining what the person was like, but found that he couldn't. In fact, he couldn't much imagine what anyone looked like. He had the vaguest idea of how a face appeared, where the eyes and mouth and nose went. It was all blurry to him, and then he slept.

-

Sasuke remembered something that made him eager to be out of the stuffy hot class room as soon as possible. He remembered his mother eating little white and red candies that she called medicine but they _couldn't _have been the same as that bitter myriad fluid given to him when he was ill, kept in a little white bottle.

"No, Sasuke. They are just for me, they take away the pain in my body."

"Where do they take it?"

"I don't know, Sasuke. Away."

He thought that same bottle was probably still in the house, in the pop-open mirror cabinet. But he could never reach that cabinet before, so he wouldn't risk the trouble of going all the way back there to find it. He was sure he could get it at the supermarket. They had everything, after all, all nicely neatly package and ready to be purchased.

The clerk had glanced at him momentarily and then averted his eyes. Mumbled something about the price and haveagoodday and Sasuke was walking out, bottle clutched tightly in his left hand and wondering if he was even aloud to purchase such a thing at his age. Not that it mattered.

When he was safely seated at his kitchen table he held the bottle curiously above its polished wooden surface. He tried to unscrew the lid, with little success and frowned, then held the container closer to his face for inspection. The cover had near invisible print that read CHILD SAFETY CAP PRESS DOWN AND TURN. The first part he did not understand and disregarded while quickly opening the bottle with a small noise of satisfaction. He blinked in confusion for a moment before reaching down and pulling out the cotton that covered the prize.

Carefully he tipped a few out onto the table, listened to the muted tapping of the little pills hitting wood echo through the quiet rooms.

He picked one up and frowned, his black Uchiha eyes scrutinizing. What now?

Slowly, he set it into his open mouth. No taste. Maybe not candy then. He bit down, then grimaced and spit franticly, even reaching up to wipe at his tongue with his sleeve. He ran to the kitchen and turned the faucet on cold, as high as it would go. Grabbed a dirty glass from beside the sink, filled it halfway and drank it down, down, down.

After drinking another cup he let out a heavy sigh. So it _was_ medicine. Of course it was. And that's what he had wanted, after all. He just hadn't wanted to taste it. He filled the glass up again, all the way to the brim and carefully brought it back to the table.

It seems as though he can't remember a time when he didn't hurt. He knows that when mother and father were still alive, he'd been better… but it was normal, wasn't it? To hurt like this? Mother hurt, and once he had asked Itachi about the bandages, and Itachi had told him, he said, he said- he hurt. Did everyone feel like this? Or maybe… maybe, it was just his family. Just Uchiha.

He picked up the bottle again and turned it around.

…_only take recommended dose…_

…_swallow with water… _

…_Warning…_

With water. So then they were aware of how terrible their product tasted. He searched the miniature script again and again. One. He should take one. He picked up _one_ and put it into his mouth, braced himself with a hand against the table and chewed. Washed it down with water and swept up all of the pills, back into the bottle everyone, and left them there.

He sat in the living room, silent and motionless. He was waiting for the effect. After about fifteen minutes he frowned and slumped down, stood up and walked over to the nearest window. The sky was a yellow gray, heavy with rain and electricity, but keeping it all to itself.

An idle breeze caused the branches of the trees to scrape against one another and the dead leaves at their bases to shuffle restlessly.

Maybe… he needed more.


End file.
